


Ache

by fuzzybatbutts



Series: Lessons To Be Learned [10]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games), Titanfall (Video Games)
Genre: AMAB Bloodhound (Apex Legends), Abusive Relationships, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Author's Favorite, Bloodhound Headcanons (Apex Legends), Caretaking, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mental Anguish, Mental Instability, Mirage/Bloodhound - Freeform, Nonbinary Character, Other, Pain, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Whump, a lil bit he freaks out, kind of, miragehound, woot woot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 04:30:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21093425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzybatbutts/pseuds/fuzzybatbutts
Summary: Something isn't right with Bloodhound, and Elliott's terrified of what it might be,





	Ache

**Author's Note:**

> And y'all thought I was gonna let Hound off easy >:)
> 
> UPDATE PLEASE READ!!
> 
> So my beta and I have a discord now!! It's specifically for fans of apex who love dark fiction, so if you like this series it'll be right up your alley!! It was created since I got booted from an apex server for posting noncon so it's to protect us fans who the purity police deem problematic. Nothing is too far and there's specifically a blacklist channel for those of us who love the nastiest of the nasty. :D if the link doesnt cooporate, lemme know and I'll find a way to send it to you ^^  
https://discord.gg/xNkTyCV

There was more than one kind of silence.  
There were the awkward, impatient silences punctuated by the tapping of Hound’s foot against the floor when they grew annoyed with his stuttering. It kicked off when they’d ask him questions completely out of nowhere, and they’d grow more irritated the more frustrated he got with it, and the more frustrated he got, the longer it took for him to get the words right.  
There were the strange silences that followed them whenever they’d go out into the forest. The birdsong would come to a hush and they’d be alone together, walking the trails down to the river or out to various berry patches that Hound knew. The only sounds when they were hunkered down in the bushes came from Elliott’s own mouth, swearing when he’d jam a thorn into his finger by accident. He could practically see Hound rolling their eyes behind the glass as they’d throw a strip of bandage his way and mutter something he couldn’t understand. He just assumed they were calling him an idiot and based on the stare they’d give him, he was probably right.  
There were pleasant, peaceful silences when he’d go sit outside to get some fresh air and they’d be sitting inside making food or locked away in their study. It was strange being outside unsupervised, but a familiar black bird would always been sitting nearby so he never really did feel alone. He’d seen Bloodhound feeding it and it would often perch on their shoulder during their walks to the river and bathe in the pools of water that formed in the rocks when they did. Even for a raven it was big, and its beady-eyed stare was unnerving.  
There was the most familiar kind of silence, the one he’d experience when Hound was asleep and he’d sit up in his room trying to pass the time. If they came into his room it was usually because they wanted something. They weren’t exactly chatty, but Elliott still enjoyed when they’d speak to him for more than a few words. Even hearing them panting behind him or whispering into his neck was a welcome break from being alone in his own head. They never stayed for very long afterwards, but their touch was soothing on the days when he’d managed to get everything right and he could turn off his brain and lean into it. He didn’t mind doing things for them even if he got nothing out of it. Normally they’d let him take his time with it which meant he could keep them around for longer and stave off boredom while also enjoying himself.  
It was nice when they’d just sit back and place their hand on the top of his head, petting his hair and occasionally brushing it out of his eyes to get a better look. It was the closest they’d ever gotten to intimacy, and Elliott tried to be satisfied with just that. He wasn’t falling head over heels or anything, but it was strange hearing someone sing praises to him, only to spit in his face and laugh as they forced him to kneel and recite the list of rules as he described why he deserved what they were doing. He never knew how to feel, and his head hurt just thinking about it, so it was easier to just focus on what he’d gotten good at and live in the moment as best he could. It stopped the pesky overthinking and he could ignore all the confused feelings that would occasionally try to claw their way out and demand his attention. It was easier to just not think at all, and to use their voice as his tool for grounding.  
Elliott didn’t know how long they’d been together for, but it was certainly long enough for him to know when something was wrong. He could sense it in the air or in how they were carrying themself, and it always hit with a sharp sting in his chest when the panic would ensue.  
And something was definitely wrong.  
Hound always woke up before he did. He didn’t know how they could function on such little sleep, when it took him a good hour to fully kick the drowsiness to the curb before he could answer complex questions or do anything that required his full attention. They seemingly just didn’t need to sleep, so them still sleeping after he’d been awake for a couple hours was unheard of. It was just something that didn’t happen, and Elliott had been standing outside their door for the better part of twenty minutes trying to make up his mind about what to do. He’d woken up while the sun was starting to set, watching the orange light filter through the trees outside his window while he blinked away the remaining sleep. He’d gotten up, stretched, walked out into the main living area and nearly had a heart attack when he found it empty. Their chair was still pushed in from the previous night and none of the candles they’d usually light showed any signs of use. The wax was completely cooled and the fireplace was nothing but ash. He’d gone to bed before they had, but he’d heard their door click soon after which was already unusual. _Usually_ they were so quiet he had no idea where they were until they were breathing down the back of his neck, which always made him jump out of his skin. Somehow, the floorboards never made a sound when they would walk down the hall and he never heard the doors open or close. The soft _click_ had actually made him jump, thinking that maybe the wind had blown open the front door despite it being a calm night.  
He’d waited as patiently as he could for them to wake up, but there hadn’t been any sign of them. Their door was closed and he knew he was forbidden from entering it without permission, which was something he’d never been given. It was simple in theory, just walk up and knock, but in practice it seemed herculean. He wasn’t allowed to speak, and he hadn’t been in a situation like this before, so he didn’t have a baseline he could follow. It was risky, but if something was wrong he needed to know. Maybe they were testing how long he’d putter around for before finally making a decision. They _did_ want him to be more decisive, so it made sense if they’d pull something like this to try and confuse him.  
Elliott took a deep breath and rapped his knuckles against the wood as softly as he could. The noise seemed to echo impossibly loudly in the hall, and he strained to hear any kind of a response.  
“Elliott?”  
He paused. Who else could it have been?  
“Yeah, it’s me. Everything okay in there?”  
“Yes. Just give me a moment.”  
Elliott stood and waited, but they didn’t come. If he pressed his ear against the door he could make out the sound of something shifting, but it was only barely audible. He rocked back and forth on his heels and tapped against his arm, but still the door didn’t open. It was only when he heard what sounded like a sigh that he perked up. “Just… come in.”  
Cautiously, Elliott grabbed the doorknob and twisted, wincing at the loud creaking of the wood as he pushed inward. The room was dark, much more so than the rest of the cabin. He could barely see until the light from the hall spilled into it, and his breath caught in his throat.  
Hound was still in bed, laying on their side with their back turned to him, curled up under their quilt. Almost all of them was covered by the blanket, with only the silvery spikes of their hair, spread in a halo across their pillow, visible. Their mask was on the bed beside them, smoked glass still staring back at him. They weren’t moving, and Elliott had to squint to see if they were even breathing. The blanket rose and fell with their chest, but it looked inconsistent and shallow. He was right. He hadn’t wanted to have been right, but something was definitely wrong.  
Elliott didn’t dare speak, but he felt like an idiot just standing and staring. He was grateful when they broke the silence first, even if they way they did so only made him more anxious. “Can you bring me some water?”  
Their voice was thin, strained somehow. It sounded dry, and not at all like the commanding one he’d learned to snap to attention for. Small, and almost alien coming from them.  
He didn’t like it. “Y-yeah. I-I’ll be back. Don’t uh… don’t go anywhere.”  
He regretted the words as soon as he said them, but it was part of the habit they hadn’t fully broken. They didn’t say anything else, just pulled the blankets tighter around them. It was silence, which was usually how he knew he’d fucked something up, but it wasn’t _their_ silence. Not the one he knew of, anyway.  
After doing as they asked, Elliott hurried back to their room, trying not to spill the cup of water on the floor, but froze up in the doorway. Hound had sat themself up and was trying to do up the buckles on the back of their mask, but it didn’t appear to be going well. Their fingers, usually quick and nimble but now clumsy, didn’t seem to want to cooperate and he could hear the metal bits scraping together but only one of the straps was holding. It was something so simple, but it was clearly frustrating to them as with every failed attempt their movements just grew sloppier. Elliott just stood in the doorway, trying to look intently at a spot on the ceiling and not stare.  
“_Helvíti!_”  
Elliott jumped, splashing cold water from the glass onto his foot. Hound had slammed their fist into their thigh in frustration, and the sudden outburst had scared the crap out of him. They were wincing now, holding their hand tight to their chest while still holding the straps with the other so it wouldn’t fall from their face. Hound was breathing heavily, and even from the door he could see their hand shaking. Elliott had seen them angry, but it was usually at him and it only added to his confusion. Why were they struggling so much? Why was this so difficult for them?  
“Elliott… can you…”  
“Yeah, I got it.”  
He’d never heard someone sound so frustrated, and if their voice was any indication, it must have been killing them to ask for help. It was painful to listen to, and part of the reason he’d risked punishment for interrupting was because it was unbearable hearing them struggle through asking. Hound didn’t ask, ever. They ordered him around and even if it sounded like something basic, it never was. They always did everything alone and unless it involved his mouth or his body, they didn’t like to involve him. But here they were, asking for his assistance for something that Elliott had always seen as the ultimate no-go. If they kissed—a very rare occurrence at best—he was to keep his hands planted firmly at his sides, unless otherwise instructed, and especially away from their face. Once, he had brushed his hand against their cheek and been rewarded with a sharp smack up the side of his head and had caught on pretty quickly after that.  
Elliott set the glass down and took the straps in his hands. There was nothing fancy about them, just leather affixed to the metal and fastened with some kind of coppery buckle. Hound kept it pushed tightly against their face so he couldn’t look down and see the top half of it. The tension in the air was palpable. Elliott didn’t fully understand what kind of state they were in, and the urge to just rip off the mask was definitely present. Another thought occurred to him, one that caused him to stop tightening the straps and really consider it.  
_I could leave…_  
Hound wasn’t able to get up and get their own water, let alone chase him. If he turned tail and hoofed it towards the door, he’d probably be home free. He could just leave, forget everything that happened and never see them again. Call the police, call Anita who was probably worried sick and ready to kick the shit out of him for standing her up. Call just about anyone and go back to his life before this whole mess.  
Wind blew the branches of a nearby tree against the glass. They scraped the window loudly, like something from outside was desperate to get in. Elliott remembered how it always felt like there was nothing out there, but even he knew that was impossible. If he left, he’d be in an unfamiliar forest with god knows what kind of creatures and nothing to defend himself with. It was dark, and Hound had only ever taken him out at night on very specific trails that were well marked. Elliott had assumed it was so he couldn’t run off on purpose, but the howling of the wind made him think that, like with most things Hound did, there was another reason below the surface. Hound knew these woods and what kind of things went bump in the night there. Elliott didn’t, and maybe that was the reason they’d kept such a close eye on him. If he tried to leave now, they couldn’t protect him, and it was likely a death sentence.  
“Elliott?”  
“S-sorry.”  
He pushed back the initial thought from his mind and tightened the last of the straps. He stepped back and watched as they tried to lower themself back down into a sitting position. Their arms were shaking like they couldn’t bear the weight and they were grimacing, like the act was causing them intense pain. The wrist they’d slammed into their leg was already swollen, and a bruise formed as blood leaked under their skin from the impact site. That arm was shaking especially hard, but Hound seemed determined to not acknowledge it.  
“Are you okay?” asked Elliott, cautious, still worried they’d grow angry with him for speaking too much.  
“I am fine,” they grunted, “Just give me a-”  
_Crack!_  
Hound cried out in pain as their arm gave out from under them and they fell, landing on their injured side. Quickly, they rolled to their back and grabbed at the skin near their clavicle, inhaling sharply. They pushed back against the pillow and Elliott could hear them grinding their teeth trying to get ahold of whatever pain they were suddenly feeling. It took a moment, but Elliott cringed when he caught sight of it. Their shoulder didn’t look right. It sat almost an inch below the other one and looked like it was sagging. He could see their collarbone jutting out against the skin as the muscles slipped downward.  
He’d seen a similar injury before. One of his brothers had been a sportsman, and had dislocated his shoulder when he’d been tackled and landed wrong, but nothing like that had happened to them. They’d just been leaning on their arm and it had seemingly just _popped_ completely out of place, and falling on it probably just moved the joints further apart. His brother had been wailing and rolling on the field so Hound’s tolerance for pain must have been unbelievably high if they were coping with it this well. They were doing their best not to move, focusing on trying to level out their breathing through clenched teeth.  
“Jesus Christ, what happened? Are you okay?”  
Bloodhound hissed, and Elliott cringed at how stupid the question sounded once it had hit the air. “I will be fine,” their voice was haggard, deliberate pauses between each word so they could force the next one out. “But, I am going to need your assistance with this.”  
“Okay, just tell me what to do,” Elliott tried not to sound panicked but his voice was shaking. He had no idea how he was supposed to help and the thought of injuring them further was making his own hands shake.  
“Grab my wrist. Both hands.”  
“But it’s already hurt. I don’t want to make it wors-”  
“Just do it!” they snarled, “Elliott, just do as I tell you!”  
Spurred into action and fearing their anger would be further directed at him, Elliott grabbed their wrist and an immediate pang of guilt hit him when their lips tightened. They took a shaky breath inwards and their mouth moved like they were going to speak, but it took a moment before they could gather the energy to actually say the words. “Move my arm up and down. Just a little.”  
Elliott did as he was instructed, and Hound seemed to relax a bit more. “Move it towards my head. Do not stop until I say so.”  
It was hard to keep the movements steady while their face screwed up. Elliott felt like he was just hurting them more and that they’d have been better off trying to do it alone. He wasn’t a professional and it looked like he was just causing them more pain instead of helping. He only hesitated for a moment, but their head snapped to face him and their lip curled in a sneer. “Keep. Going.”  
He pulled on their arm until it was level with their shoulder and Hound spoke again. “Rotate my arm. Keep moving it up.”  
He nodded, rolling it back and forth as he pulled it up above their head. It was the same technique he’d seen the first responders do on his brother, and he knew this was the most painful part right up until it popped back into place. Hounds other hand was balled up in their shirt, and the skin on their face and chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Whatever liquid ran through the tubing in their neck was racing by, and the small ones above their heart were doing the same. “Stop!”  
Elliott’s body seized and he held their wrist as still as he could. Hound held their breath and drew their arm back towards their body, moving it over until their fist touched the blankets on the other side. They touched the joint as they moved their arm back and forth over their chest, releasing the breath and relaxing finally. “Thank you.”  
“Uh,” Elliott did he best not to seem surprised, “You’re welcome.”  
_Since when does Hound thank me for anything? Maybe they have a fever too…_  
“Are you going to need a doctor? We might have put it back wrong.”  
Hound shook their head. “No, this is not the first time I have had to set something. It will be fine once I rest.”  
“Accident prone?”  
“Not quite.”  
Elliott went to hand them the glass of water from the nightstand, but Hound didn’t immediately grab for it. They were still lying down and Elliott didn’t want to see them attempt to sit up again and just slide their arm back out of place. When they tried, he finally got a good look at their wrist and resisted the urge to grimace. It was a dark purple and the swelling had made its way up into the back of their hand. The whole thing looked incredibly sore, and Hound was struggling with opening their hand all the way to grab it. After a few failed attempts they let it fall to the bed, hand dangling off the side of the mattress and face turned away from him. “Can I help?” he asked meekly.  
“How are you going to do that?”  
Their voice was dripping with cynicism, but for once, Elliott chose to ignore it. “Let me tilt your head up. I’ll do my best not to spill on you.”  
“That would be much appreciated. Go ahead.”  
Now their tone was bitter, but Elliott leaned over the bed and worked his hand under their head, careful not to tug on their hair. It was weird looking down at them instead of up, but he ignored everything that popped into his head to focus on not losing his grip. Hound still scowled but did their best to help him as he lifted them from the pillow. Elliott brought the glass to their lips and was careful to not tip it too far, not wanting to suffer the consequences of drenching them, at a later date. He was rarely this close to their face and noticed how visible the veins from their throat were as they crept up their cheeks and along their jaw. The nasty scar seemed even more pronounced in this state, boldly contrasting to the rest of them.  
When they were done, he set the glass down and lowered them to the pillow. “God you’re heavy.”  
“And you weigh as much as a bundle of twigs. Your point?”  
“I’m just saying, it’s inconsiderate.”  
“Excuse me?”  
Elliott couldn’t suppress all of his laughter. They sounded so indignant compared to their usual self that it was jarring. It lifted some of the fear that he’d be punished for speaking out of turn, since Bloodhound didn’t seem too concerned with it at the moment. “Y’know, not making it easy for me to haul you places.”  
“I have no choice in the matter,” they huffed, “Maybe you should just be stronger.”  
Elliott fumbled with his retort. “Maybe you should be less… uh…”  
He was surprised to hear Hound chuckle back. “Tick tock, Kærr.”  
“Be less… big?”  
“Some of us have things to do besides standing behind a bar and flirting all day.”  
Now it was Elliott’s turn to be indignant, which Hound apparently found hilarious. Their laugh wasn’t as full or rich as it usually was, but it made him smile to see that at least they still could. He’d always competed with his brothers to be the one that everyone laughed at, and even if it hadn’t been the way he’d planned, it was nice to do the one thing he was good at and see them smile. “Oh Elliott, you...”  
The smile slipped from their face as they trailed off. They coughed once, twice, before another wave of pain must have hit them. Elliott had no idea where it came from, but before he could properly react they’d grabbed hold of his hand and were crushing it while in the throes of pain. “Hound?” Elliott exclaimed, “Hound, what’s wrong?”  
“It... hurts,” they whispered, barely able to squeeze out the words as their throat tightened.  
“What hurts?”  
“Everything.”  
Elliott placed his hand overtop of theirs and looked down at them, trying to figure out something he could do to fix it. Their whole body was reacting this time. The muscles in their arms had contracted so hard it looked incredibly uncomfortable, and they’d brought their legs up slightly, enough to see that they were shaking under the blanket too. “Is there anything you need me to get? I-I can leave if that’ll help.”  
“No!” they croaked, “No, stay here. Don’t go.”  
Wide-eyed, he relented and nodded, trying to think about pain in his hand instead of his concern. It felt like they were going to crush the bones into dust, and his hand popped as they clung to it. He felt helpless. Completely and utterly helpless as he watched them shake. He’d never seen anything like this, and Hound had given no prior indication of it either. Maybe it was only something temporary, a bad flu that caused intense aching, perhaps. Whatever it was, Elliott prayed that this would end soon, not wanting to see them like this ever again. Hound had done awful things to him, but mostly after he’d made mistakes and even despite the pain, what they were going through now was clearly horrible. No one deserved to be in agony like this, no matter what they’d done.  
Eventually, the wave appeared to reach its head, and Elliott could see their muscles slowly begin to relax again, with Hound very much looking like they wanted to disappear into the mattress. “You okay?”  
“Yes, yes I am fine.”  
They both knew it was a bullshit answer, but he didn’t want to press it further in case talking spurred on another episode. Instead he stayed quiet in the chair, staring into nothing while Hound lay in bed. He doubted they’d fall asleep with him there, but they didn’t speak so he had no way to tell if their eyes were open or not. Elliott wanted to know what the hell this was, but he had a feeling that Hound wasn’t going to tell him. Whether it was the side effects of a sickness or something worse, he felt like he’d just been privy to something that no one was ever meant to see. He’d seen some kind of crack in Bloodhound’s armor, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that information. It could be useful to remember, but for _what_ he wasn’t entirely sure. He was relieved that it was over and that they seemed okay, but he knew he’d be lying to himself if he tried to say there was a part of him that didn’t worry about what condition they were in. He cared about if they were in pain, whether he liked it or not.  
Elliott sat in the chair until his eyes grew heavy. Bloodhound hadn’t moved, just lying there, still and breathing shallowly. Even as Elliott nodded off, he took note of something interesting.  
Bloodhound had made no effort to pull their hand back, and Elliott passed out with his own still on top of it.

**Author's Note:**

> READ PLZ
> 
> Hey folks, I know I say in every chapter that my update schedule is fuckered, but I might have to take some extra shifts at work because I've got to pay vet bills since there's a possibility my cat as a sarcoma and will need a bunch of surgery. I've got to pay for a biopsy which isn't horrible, but it's also not great and I need money and since I don't get paid for writing cuz I'd have to do commissions and have no clue how that works (yet! one day I'll get published and I can get paid for it :D) so next update might be awhile. It's hopefully gonna be a chunky boy though, so I'll make it worth the wait!! I'm not abandoning this in any way so don't worry!! I've still got a lot of plans for these two ^-^
> 
> This is all part of my headcanon for Hound and but you'll have to keep reading to find out all the nitty gritty bits. 
> 
> I've yet to go full bore in my Apex fics because I've yet to see another fic author do really really dark stuff. Like extreme gore/sex and I already spam the noncon tag as is lol. I might go full gruesome but it'll likely be unbeta'd since my beta (thanks as always to volatileSoloist for enjoying me being to Elliott and polishing this dude up) isn't as extreme as me :D such a lonely existence :D it's a curse really :D if I go medium bore it won't be a part of this series btw. 
> 
> Aight I'm done talking. 
> 
> Cheers


End file.
